


Spicyhoney Kinktober Shorts

by keelywolfe



Series: Spicyhoney Standalones [13]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Come Marking, Dildos, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, First Time, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Tentacles, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-11-22 02:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20866910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Spicyhoney shorts for Kinktober





	1. Bound and Determined

**Author's Note:**

> So, I decided I wanted to try a few of the Kinktober prompts for my favorite Spicyhoney boys. I probably won’t manage them in any sort of order, but I thought it would be fun!
> 
> This first chapter is for the ‘Bondage’ prompt.
> 
> FYI, I do not claim to be any sort of expert on any kind of bondage, but I gave it my best shot!

* * *

Rus couldn’t even imagine the courage it took for Edge to ask for something like this.

The first step into anything was always the worst, plunging headfirst into the unknown and, like always, Edge was the one who took it. He’d looked Rus straight in the face and asked him with preternatural calm, “In all my life, I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you. I want try something, I want to feel what it’s like to be completely bound.” He hesitated and for the first time a hint of uncertainty crept in. “If that’s something you’d like?”

Yeah, as if Rus could ever say no to that? Not likely.

Rus had the easy part. Shopping for rope, researching different knots and tying patterns. Long hours on the internet and in stores, taking careful notes and coming up with a plan.

Okay, so, actually, Edge had it the worst and the best; once the first part was done, all Edge had to do was wait.

Wait as Rus did his research, practiced diligently until he was confident. Waited while he decided on a position, even waiting as Rus carefully chose a pillow for him to kneel on. 

He didn’t think he’d ever worked so hard on something in his life and it was just a damn shame he couldn’t use it as an example for his bro. But then, Rus couldn’t remember anything else he’d wanted so desperately to get right.

This first time, Rus chose clothes for Edge as well. He went with soft pants and a sleeveless shirt, partly to act as a cushion for the ropes, but also to keep this first journey into vulnerability together from being overwhelming. 

That decision wasn’t only for Edge.

When Rus was ready, he chose a time, set up everything and waited in their room while Edge showered and changed. His nerves were a live wire; what if he messed this up, hurt Edge maybe, what if this went wrong and the damage wasn’t to bone but someplace deeper and harder to heal?

Edge coming in helped relax him. His lover was calm, ready, and he stood waiting as patiently as he had from the very beginning for Rus to settle himself.

Rus took a deep breath as he picked up the rope and began.

First Edge’s arms, bound behind him, laced together from wrist to elbow. Not too aggressively, careful of his left shoulder where Edge’s range of motion was limited by an old injury. Some of his bones were heavily scarred and needed caution and he wound the ropes carefully so they wouldn’t rub or aggravate them. The point wasn’t for this to hurt.

Distantly, Rus marveled that his fingers moved so steadily. Inside he was nothing but a tumultuous roil of overheated emotion, but none of it reflected in his hands. He moved with deliberate care, winding and knotting, moving Edge’s unresisting limbs whenever it was needed.

Next came the harness across Edge’s torso, the ropes woven across his rib cage like a basket to hold him. There was no sound but Edge’s slow, even breathing and the hiss of the rope as Rus pulled it through the coils.

Lastly came his legs, femurs bound first to his tibias, and then bound together. It took some time, but soon the knots were crawling up his legs like a ladder. Each one evenly placed, tied with endless care.

Rus spoke as he worked, keeping his voice low and soothing, ”there you are. always so controlled, babe, let it go, you’re safe here, you’re safe.” Edge kept his sockets closed, his breathing slow and even as he allowed Rus to bind him. Tears prickled and Rus blinked hard to hold them back. There was so much trust here it ached, Edge giving himself over to Rus so completely, trusting him to keep him safe. 

The last rope fastened his arms to his ankles with little slack. When he was finished, Edge was kneeling on the pillow, completely bound and encased in precise coils of rope. The gag was last, not terribly wide and malleable to allow for the jaggedness of his teeth.

Rus was panting as he finally stepped back, his internal trembling leaching into his fingers as he wiped away a trickle of sweat. But the effort was well worth it.

Edge’s expression was a wonder. Serene bliss was the best description Rus could come up with. They didn’t exactly have endorphins but the effect was the same, offering peace as he knelt safely cradled in cotton fiber. His magic glowed softly in his joints, subtly roused as he relaxed into the rope’s embrace.

Rus took a moment to circle Edge, admiring the precise lines of the rope, pale against the dark clothes, paler even than the ivory of bone. The pattern was relatively simple and yet bound Edge completely.

A beautiful scene, so very beautiful. Kneeling there, completely restrained and yet freer than perhaps Edge had ever been.

“you’re doing so well,” Rus crooned to him. A shudder went through Edge, the ropes creaking faintly.

Trickles of pink saliva were beginning to run from the corners of his mouth from around the gag and Edge shifted his weight. His sockets opened and his eye lights were defused, little more than a soft crimson haze. But he blinked a slow pattern, one of a couple that Rus insisted they both learn. That was asking for the gag to be removed and Rus did it hastily, the quick release allowing him to open the buckle at the back of his skull easily.

Edge coughed a few times, rocking lightly against the ropes, working his jaw before he rasped out. “Give me something better to do with my mouth.”

“yeah,” Rus let out a shaky breath. “yeah, i can do that.” Not even a question, he’d been painfully hard since before he’d tied the first knot. He unbuckled his belt, allowed Edge to watch him unzip his fly and pull out his cock.

Edge only parted his teeth in anticipation, accepting the length of it between them and into the hot wetness of his mouth. His head wasn’t restrained at all, but he let Rus do all the work, thrusting slowly, falling into a careful rhythm. Edge only knelt there, unable to move or talk, safely bound. Soon he was moaning, muffled and low, his slick tongue curling eagerly around the length of Rus’s shaft.

Rus cupped his jaw gently, stroked his thumbs over the mandible joints. He thrust a little harder, let Edge take him as deeply as he wanted, groans of his own coming loose, much louder than Edge’s.

“shit,” Rus hissed, hardly a decent warning, but Edge was too fucking beautiful, he couldn’t last. He came hard, spilling into the formed throat that swallowed against the hot pulses. When he withdrew, Edge was panting, a trickle of orange down his chin along with the drying remnants of his own saliva.

His magic was glowing through the thin material of his pants, crimson and bright. Rus crouched down, tucked his fingers between those bound femurs and all it took was a tweak at Edge’s pubic symphysis and he was coming, an uncontrolled explosion of magic that seeped hot and wet over Rus’s stroking fingers.

By the time Edge’s breathing slowed he was listing to one side, almost straining against the ropes. 

“okay, that’s enough,” Rus said firmly. He gave no opportunity for argument, but the only sound Edge made was a low murmur of assent.

Quickly, Rus tugged free the slipknots and the ropes fell away in coils, like thin white snakes laying on their bedroom floor. He caught Edge as he sagged, and he wasn’t as strong as his lover but he could help him to the bed. Lowered him to the mattress and quickly stripped away his damp clothes.

A bowl of warm water and a washcloth were sitting on the nightstand. Rus wrung out the cloth, wiping away sweat and splatters of magic as he checked Edge over, scrutinizing every bone, every chafe mark. There was no visible injury and Rus washed him clean, then pulled the blankets over them both before the cool air was too much. He kept his hands on Edge, stroking, murmuring soft words of love and reassurance.

Finally, Edge stirred, his sockets opening into mere slits. “Thank you,” Edge slurred out, “thank you.”

“anytime, babe,” Rus told him softly. “anything you need.” 

For a moment, Rus thought he’d fallen asleep, but then Edge spoke again, low and touched with uncertainty. “Could you hold me?”

Immediately Rus pulled him close, binding him with his arms rather than rope. Held him as Edge settled in, stroked him gently.

Edge drifted off, but Rus didn’t try to pull away. Instead, he followed the invisible paths of the bindings with his fingertips. Traced his way through imaginary restraints and knots. 

He was caught between memory and hopes for next time, spooling out a fantasy and already picturing how beautiful his love could, would be.

Anything Edge needed in this, Rus would give, anything at all. Plans for different restraints were already dancing in his mind, more elaborate knots, more difficult positions. Allowing his love to test his boundaries, push his trust as far as he wished.

Rus couldn’t wait.

-finis-


	2. Staking a Claim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Facial
> 
> Also, oral sex, marking, jealousy, mentions of other partners, not hate sex but it’s something adjacent.
> 
> Trying to earn a little of the ‘kink’ from Kinktober here!

* * *

It bordered on infuriating how good Rus was at sucking him off.

The way he swallowed around Edge’s cock spoke of experience, the swirl of his tongue around the ridged head was a taught skill. He sucked with the deliberate rhythm of one who’d spent hours on his knees, one who’d opened his mouth for countless others, swallowed down cocks and come, let others have this. Have him.

“Stop,” Edge said suddenly, harsh and grating.

He did, but not quickly, the plush cushion of his tongue still moving slyly as he paused. Pulling off almost too slowly, surely feeling the warning throb as he let Edge’s shaft slide free with a wet sound like an obscenity.

Edge took himself in hand barely in time to aim.

Rus flinched slightly as hot fluid spurted over his face, closing his sockets against the spatter of deep crimson against the paleness of his bones. Sliding down his cheekbones and teeth in dark rivulets, marking him with Edge’s come.

His tongue flicked out, catching a syrup-thick droplet that went muddy against the orange of his tongue. Rus shivered, bones softly clattering as he opened his sockets again.

“that what you wanted?” Rus smirked. It was fucking infuriating, careless humor that fell away as Edge caught hold of the front of his shirt and yanked him up.

“Not yet,” he growled, then licked a wet stripe up the side of his face, tasted the spicy-sourness of his own magic tainted with faint sweetness.

Rus hung in his hands, letting him lick away the slick remnants, let Edge drag his fingers through it and smear it across his face, blurry streaks that were the only claim Rus would allow.

It wouldn’t last, not past a shower or even a hasty scrubbing. Soon he’d draw away and wash himself clean. Give Edge nothing but a breath of cigarette smoke and that smirk as he walked away, back to other bodies, letting others push him back to his knees.

But at least Rus was his for now.

-finis-


	3. Not Exactly Standard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Tentacles
> 
> Somehow, I managed to even make tentacle sex all soft and lovey, with some hurt/comfort. Also first-times here. Enjoy!

* * *

When they’d met the skeletons from the other worlds, Undertale, Underswap, Edge had made his first impressions quickly. His initial reactions were generally correct, Papyrus and Blue were kind-hearted and soft, with a core of strength hidden beneath, Sans was as much of a mysterious pain in the ass as his brother, and Rus…

Well, Rus was his deal breaker. Even Edge couldn’t be one-hundred percent right all the time. Moving past his first impression of Rus as a lazy, good-for-nothing ashtray to discover the secrets he hid beneath it had taken some time, even longer for his reluctant reassessment to venture into tentative affection. 

Now he could admit he’d been wrong, terribly wrong about Rus, but then, their initial reactions about each other were something else they had in common. Like the love that had broken unexpectedly through the door with gutting realization in a moment of staring into each other’s eye lights. It’d taken weeks of dating afterward to get them where they were, tentative trust allowing them to admit their love.

Sex, on the other hand, was taking an unexpected turn. His first, wrong, impression of Rus was that he was a flirtatious slut, ready to spread his femurs for anyone with the tiniest provocation. The reality he was learning was that Rus’s kisses were shyly eager, his touches the same. They’d both venture beneath each other’s shirts, a much shorter trip for Rus considering how much Edge’s uniform revealed, but no further. 

Edge could appreciate drawing out a slow burn, but lately the delightful frustration of waiting was leaning further into the ‘frustrated’ side of the equation. Masturbation could only provide so much satisfaction and he wanted Rus, to share their pleasure, to see the desire that hazed Rus’s eye lights whenever they came together in a panting tangle to reach its climax. 

Tonight, their brothers were both in Undertale, a plan that Sans assisted Edge with after some judicious bribery. There would be no reason for excuses, no need for anyone to rush home, begging that their brother would be worried. 

The lack of excuses might be why Rus was sitting curled up in the corner of the sofa, clutching one of the worn throw pillows. His visible nervousness was concerning, and Edge didn’t quite understand its existence. They’d come to trust each other, love each other, and yet, as eager as he was for kisses, whenever deeper intimacy threatened, Rus fled. 

Edge sat on the other side of the sofa in an attempt to not loom over Rus, but he wasn’t one for dawdling and dancing around to get answers the way his brother might. Instead, he asked, as gently as he could manage, “What’s wrong?”

“i need to tell you something,” Rus burst out. His eye lights flicked between Edge’s and the pillow in his hands, “i mean, we’ve been dating a while and i know you want…i mean, i do, too, but. i’m not exactly…standard. down there.”

“Down there,” Edge repeated slowly. Rus only squirmed and nodded, one hand releasing its death grip on the throw pillow to slide below waist-level and hover over his crotch.

Ah. _Down there._

Edge frowned, considering. His data pool of skeleton genitals was vanishingly small, including only himself and an extremely vulgar conversation with his brother when he’d come of age that was best forgotten. What little remained of that discussion left him with the impression that there were only two options for skeletons to choose from, or a combination of both, and not much room for variance. “What do you mean, not standard?”

“i mean, i have…it’s just,” Rus faltered. “maybe i should show you?”

This wasn’t at all the way he’d been expecting the final reveal to occur. His imaginings had included a rather large amount of foreplay and anticipation. But if Rus was this worried about his reaction, perhaps it would be best. “Show me.”

Even with his agreement, Rus was slow to comply. His track pants were easy enough to push down to his ankles, leaving his pelvis bare and exposed. It was a sight Edge had been eagerly anticipating, the gloss of silky-smooth bones he was ready to explore. But not with Rus shivering with anxiety, the slight magic swirling within his pelvic cradle thin and diffused, unaroused. 

“um, maybe if you—” Edge began to lean forward, more than ready to assist, “don’t watch.”

Oh. He sank back, averting his eye lights. Even so, he could hear the shaky rhythm of Rus’s breathing, the light scrape of bone against bone. The mere sound of it was a goad, gorgeously enticing, and the weeks of celibacy combined with the knowledge that Rus was right there next to him touching himself was nearly unbearable. 

It took some time enduring that torment before Rus finally sighed and spoke again.

“okay,” Rus breathed, “you can—”

Edge didn’t wait for him to finish, already turning back towards him…only to freeze at what he saw between Rus’s splayed femurs. 

Yes, that was certainly ‘not standard’.

What he saw was a mass of slowly writhing tentacles, seeming more suited to a sea creature of some sort than something that should be on his lover. The color was as to be expected at least, a bright gelatinous orange that reflected Rus’s magic. They seemed to move independently, perhaps a dozen or more slender tendrils that tapered at the tip, all of them surrounding what looked like a small opening. He couldn’t get a good look at that, the tendrils keep curling around it protectively and perhaps that was a reflection of their owner’s mood because Edge abruptly realized Rus was shivering miserably, a high, embarrassed flush blooming across his cheekbones while Edge gawked. 

He might not be familiar with what he was being shown below the waist, but above it was something Edge knew how to handle. He leaned in, over the tangle of pants at Rus’s ankles and past his cringing genitals to cup Rus’s jaw in his hands, kissing him gently. Rus was unresisting at first, lax and unresponsive, only slowly returning the gentle press of teeth. The metallic taint of fear that was so strong Edge could taste it slowly fading and for a moment, Edge was irrationally angry at whomever it was that made Rus so terrified to show this part of himself. That was all this was, a part of him, and how could Edge claim to love him if he didn’t love all of him?

Then suddenly, it was as if a dam broke somewhere inside Rus, releasing a flood of fervent kisses, his hands gripping Edge, pulling him down. Somehow, they end up lying together on the sofa, Edge between Rus’s legs while they kissed, and the soft writhing he could feel as he rubbed himself against Rus was an unfamiliar bliss.

Rus couldn’t seem to stop talking, broken words babbled between kisses. “love you…so much…people don’t…think i’m a freak…_want_ me to be a freak for them and…”

“Love you,” Edge whispered back, because he did, so much. There was no soothing that desperation and instead, he let a hand drift down Rus’s rib cage, lower, his fingers hesitating at Rus’s pelvis. “Can I?”

In answer, those tendrils reached up to wind around his hand, drawing it down. They were surprisingly soft and malleable, shifting to his wrist as Edge suddenly found his fingers engulfed in warm wetness. Tight around his phalanges and not entirely unlike his own cunt, only that opening was perhaps more like a mouth, gentle suction against his fingers. Whatever it was called, it was gorgeously tight and slick, inviting him to press deeper as Rus moaned shakily beneath him. 

“Can I make love to you?” Edge tried to scissor his fingers to test that tightness, listened to Rus’s gasps as he rolled his hips up into that touch, “Can I? Be inside you?”

Rus managed an unsteady laugh, “i really wish you would.”

He pulled out his fingers with a little effort; that slippery-soft opening didn’t seem to want to let them go. Fumbled with the buckle on his belt, cursing softly, and he only barely managed to open it before those tentacles were back, winding around his cock to guide him inside. 

“Fuck,” Edge gasped, because it was hotter than he’d expected, tighter, sucking him in better than any mouth he’d ever felt. Rus clung to him, with arms and legs and silky tentacles that wound through Edge’s pelvis and around his femurs, holding him in tight. 

“oh, please,” Rus sobbed out and Edge needed to hear that again, needed Rus begging and pleading, writhing against him in desperation. He rocked his hips, thrusting as best he could against the tendrils holding him so tightly, until suddenly they began helping him, pulling with his rhythm and riding his movements as he pushed in hard, trying to get deeper into that tight, sucking heat. 

This wasn’t what he’d intended for their first time, not this unexpectedly desperate need, cramped together on the sofa with the springs creaking beneath them, and his trousers barely pulled down, belt jangling as he thrust. But it was somehow better than any of his imaginings. Rus arching up, his bones gilded with perspiration, and his soft cries filling the air. So beautiful in his pleasure, sweat-drenched and needy, trying for sloppy, uncoordinated kisses as they rocked together. 

He felt it when Rus came, tightening around him in a convulsive ripple and Rus’s cries became a near-scream, the hot, twisting mass of his tentacles clamping down. That unexpected clench drew a sharp cry from Edge, dragging him over into pleasure so sharp it was nearly a pain, slicing through him in a bladed rush. 

When Edge came back to himself, he was still inside Rus, softening, but he couldn’t have withdrawn even if he’d wanted to. Those tendrils were still wound through his pelvis, coiled through his ischium and holding him in tightly. 

“sorry,” Rus slurred out. Edge lifted his skull, hardly aware of having dropped it on Rus’s sternum, to look at him. His hazy expression was pleasure-soaked and satiated, as pretty as he’d been in orgasm, more so. “sorry, still feels good, they’ll let go in a minute.”

Edge only nuzzled a kiss against his mouth, tasting his sweetness as he murmured, “It does feel good.”

It did. The soft writhe of those tendrils cradling him through trembling aftershocks was unlike anything he’d ever felt. Gently petting, soothing over his pelvis with gentle affection. Unusual, perhaps, but now that he’d had it, Edge couldn’t imagine wanting anything else. Idly, he wondered how they’d feel inside him, one, two, three of them crammed into his pussy as he and Rus ground against each other, ah, there was plenty of exploration yet ahead of them. But that was for later. 

Drowsy as Edge was, they couldn’t fall asleep here. Their brothers would be back eventually, and Edge was more than a little reluctant to give Red a view of anything that might challenge his perceptions of skeletal genitalia. His soul clenched at the thought, tightened painfully at the idea that Red, who could wound so easily with words, might mock before he understood. Recalling the near shame of Rus’s confession, that he wasn’t ‘standard’ and what was standard to skeletons whose ectoflesh was malleable anyway, a ridiculous concept and—

“i love you.” The aching vulnerability in those words shook him from his thoughts. Rus was looking at him, the glowing tip of his tongue caught between his teeth. As much softness as there was on his face, even after making love a hint of fear lingered.

Edge leaned down and kissed him, chasing it back into the darkness where it belonged. “I love you, too.”

No part of their relationship was standard, not from the very beginning, and Edge didn’t want it any other way. 

-finis-


	4. Out of Sight, Out of My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Voyeurism
> 
> Also contains masturbation and imagined oral sex.

* * *

It wasn’t like Rus even wanted to be in the Fell brother’s house. He barely wanted to be here on movie nights, hanging out with that overbearing prick who wore the ugly version of his own damn face. 

But Blue had loaned Edge one of his recipe books and then decided that he needed it for tonight. And of course he couldn’t get it himself, not while he had training with Alphys, so that left Rus as the good older brother, ready to visit Murder World just so his brother could make fucking scones or something. 

Okay, the scones _were_ pretty good, but not exactly worth dying over. 

When he’d texted Red about it, the little gremlin told him to just stop in. He and Edge were on duty, but Rus could shortcut into the house. All the traps were outside, or so Red claimed. Rus trusted Red about as much as he trusted himself, which was to say, not much. 

He should’ve just grabbed the fucking book and headed back home. It was in the living room where there was no sign of a dirty sock to serve as a running joke between bros because the asshole couldn’t pry open his sense of humor with a crowbar. Should’ve grabbed it, one little ragged book with its wrinkled pages painstakingly dried after Blue found it in the dump, filled with recipes that Blue vowed to someday try. Grabbed it and shortcutted back home, that was what Rus should’ve done. 

What he shouldn’t have done was paid any attention to the sound he heard upstairs. He shouldn’t have gone creeping silently up, maybe thinking that someone was breaking in and he should give a Red a heads up, but more like it was his stupid curiosity and at least cats had nine lives to back that shit up. 

He shouldn’t’ve followed it, that ragged, low, was it a groan? He really shouldn’t’ve paused at the asshole, at Edge’s, open door, nagging, reluctant concern making Rus look, was he hurt, was something wrong…?

Oh, uh, holy shit.

Well. 

If he’d been asked, Rus would’ve sworn that as pent up as that bastard was, he’d probably never jerked off once in his life. 

Watching him now showed that Rus was clearly wrong, because Edge knew exactly what he was doing. Those poured-in pants he wore gaped open at the fly, pulled out of the way while his bare hand curled tight around the shaft, moving with long, slow strokes. He was big, fingers barely meeting around the deep scarlet shaft of ectoflesh, and the sight made Rus’s mouth water, made him want to try unhinging his jaw to swallow that cock down, choke himself until he had to pull off to breathe and try again. There was a silver bar pierced through the tip, disappearing and reappearing into his fist as he stroked, the wide sprawl of his femurs hid exactly nothing, giving Rus an almost perfect view and-

He shouldn’t be watching this, shouldn’t, but the slickness of Edge’s hand squelched so obscenely that Rus could’ve tracked it by sound alone. Didn’t need to; even from here he could see the way Edge’s finger bones were stained red from his magic, dripping with it, his cock was leaking with eagerness, coating false flesh and bones alike with slippery, fluid magic. 

Edge’s sockets slitted opened, only a brief flash of crimson eye lights, but Rus jerked back out of sight, biting his tongue hard enough to taste the sweetness of his own magic as he rested his forehead on the cool wall. Okay, fuck, he could not stay here and watch this, this was past dipping a toe in the Rubicon, this was belly flopping in and swimming for the other shore. He needed to leave and start repressing that he’d ever seen Edge jerking it, that he’d heard those low, throaty groans starting to float through the open door, rhythmic and needy, Edge’s normally harsh voice smoothed over with pleasure. 

What he did not need to do was peek around the corner again, watching the slip-slide of Edge’s dick in his grip. He was raising his hips into it now, thrusting into his own hand, and he was close, Rus could tell, moving with some urgency and fuck, was that what Rus looked like when he came? His face going tight, eye lights flaring so brightly it was visible in the seam of his closed sockets, breath hissing out in a desperate gust. 

If it was, then no wonder anyone Rus fucked came back for a second helping, because it was a gorgeous sight. Razor-sharp teeth parting on a silent cry as Edge came hard, splashing wet and hot over his hand, dripping down in scarlet rivulets over his wrist bones. That was an impressive quantity, must’ve been some pent-up shit after all, enough to soak into his pants in a way Rus’d never have believed the neat freak would have allowed.

Edge moved quick enough after, not even waiting for the last shudders to fade before he started moving and Rus half-expected him to grab a towel out of his inventory or even just a corner of the blanket to wipe clean. He couldn’t have expected, holy shit, couldn’t even have imagined Edge lifting his hand to lick his wet fingers, fuck, his long, crimson tongue curling around the slender phalanges to search out stray drops.

“Did you want a taste?”

It took a minute for Rus to even resister Edge had spoken. He was too busy staring like a fucking idiot, not even really hidden by the doorframe anymore, and his own crotch was glowing like the goddamn Fourth of July.

Edge only smirked at him, holding out his slick hand as he licked his teeth with a come-smeared tongue mockingly, but…well, hell with it, an invitation was an invitation, even if it came from an asshole.

He did take a minute to shut the door and lock it behind him. Just in case. 

No one else was getting a peek at this view.

-finis-


	5. Plastic Fantastic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dildo, with a side order of praise kink.

* * *

“I brought you a gift.”

Rus slouched back on the sofa, looking up at Edge who was being a prick by looming over him. Not that Rus really minded, nah, half the fun of fucking someone like Edge was the attitude problem. 

His bro was staying the night in the Taleverse, giving him plenty of time for a little fun, and Edge came over pretty damn fast when Rus texted him an offer. Better not to point that out, not yet, anyway. Edge wasn’t above storming out if he was pissed off enough and Rus really did want to get laid. Rus would have to save his best lines until orgasms were a little more imminent.

“yeah?” Rus drawled. It took a little effort to not sound excited, but it would probably be worth it, usually was. “okay, that’s cool. i like getting presents from the people i’m fucking.” Deliberately needling and Rus knew he hit his mark, the faint flare in Edge’s eye lights. Not that he was sleeping with anyone else lately, but Edge didn’t know that and he was a fantastic fuck when he was all worked up.

Edge let it pass, too bad, that, and instead pulled a box out of his inventory to hand over.

The paper was a sedate black with a purple ribbon, wrapped with pristine care, and Rus tore through it carelessly, letting it fall to the floor.

He lifted the lid and his excitement deflated instantly, like the last balloon after a birthday party, stabbed with a pencil just to get the damn thing out of the house.

“oh,” he said flatly. “A dildo.” What a shitty gift. It wasn’t like some gag gift, either, not that Edge had the humor for that. Pretty big but not ridiculously so or anything. It was a bright purple and lined with rows of little plastic knobs. Bleh, he’d been expecting furry cuffs or even a gag, hell, plenty of people threatened to shut him up, pretty sure Edge wouldn’t want to miss his chance. So why give him a plastic schlong instead? He tossed the box on the coffee table carelessly, tipping his head back to look up at Edge.

“why would i want a dildo when you have a dick? feeling inadequate?” Rus cooed. He reached up to palm his pubic symphysis through his too-tight pants, felt the sudden surge of heat.

Edge allowed it for a moment, the touch crackling in his eye lights. Then he slapped Rus’s hand away. But like Rus didn’t notice he did it gently? It didn’t even hurt. The Edgelord played tough but he was a kitty-cat once he got a little pussy. Heh, little pussy for the pussy, better not share that pun.

“Not at all,” Edge smirked. He picked up the box with more care than Rus, plucking up the dildo and balancing it between two long fingers. “From what I’ve noticed, you have no complaints about my cock. But this little toy is as much for me as you.”

“yeah?” Rus said skeptically. “what do you get out of it?”

“I get to watch you take it,” Edge growled. He curled his hand around the length of it, pushing the dildo into his fist in demonstration. 

Rus swallowed, watching the slide of it in and out. Okay, yeah, that made sense. If Edge liked to watch, it wasn’t like he was getting much of a view with their pelvises crammed together. Wasn’t like he was asking for much, either, Rus had been willing to do a lot worse. Better? Eh, he’d been willing to get down to some dirty shit. Letting Edge fuck him with a purple dildo wasn’t exactly a hardship. Although—

“purple,” Rus narrowed his sockets. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“Not at all,” Edge said, but his smirk was less than convincing. ”I simply thought it would be a good contrast with your magic.”

“oh, yeah, stars forbid we get a color clash or something. how could we ever show our faces at the country club again,” Rus sighed, slumping over the arm of the sofa and shaking his head. Well, what the hell, maybe if they played for a bit, Edge would be down for something a little better. ”okay, yeah. we can try it.”

“Good,” Edge said, softly. The crack that ran through his socket seemed oddly more threatening whenever his eye lights flared and Rus shivered. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

“we’ll see.”

* * *

A little while later, Rus wasn’t impressed with the way Edge was making good on his promise. Lying sprawled out on his freshly-made mattress with his femurs spread usually involved a lot more touching, but Edge was only standing by the bed with a bird’s eye view at Rus’s pelvic inlet, eye lights focused where his pussy already formed and waiting.

“come on,” Rus grumbled. “if i needed a gynecologist, i‘d’ve googled for one.”

“Hush,” Edge said absently. It was only then that Rus realized he was putting on a new pair of gloves. They were black instead of his normal red, with a satiny sheen and Rus wondered sourly if those were chosen for the aesthetic, too. But even he could admit that when he picked up the dildo, the deep purple contrasted nicely with the black. 

It looked a hellava lot bigger than it had downstairs, held in Edge’s slender fingers and Rus refocused his gaze at the ceiling, ignoring the prickle of his nonexistent nerves. It would fit, he knew it would, ectoflesh was very forgiving. Even if he didn’t enjoy it much, it wasn’t going to hurt him.

The bed shifted, but he wasn’t looking, so the first brush against his pussy lips made him startle, the rounded tip parting them and gliding up his slit. It was fucking cold, a hell of a lot colder than any cock, and Rus struggled not to squirm away. That hard, foreign feeling slid all the way to his clit, circling it with perfect pressure and despite himself, Rus groaned.

“I brought a lubricant,” Edge said conversationally. Rus forced himself to look down to see Edge sprawled on the bed between his femurs, one gloved hand propping up his chin while the other twisted the dildo against Rus’s clit with careful precision. “But I don’t believe we’ll need it, do you?”

“hnnnn,” Rus managed, then gave himself a hard mental shake. No way in fuck was he letting Edge get to him this fast. “you gonna play with your toys or just tease. the runway is clear, come on in for a landing.”

“Hmm, soon,” Edge said, almost absently. His eye lights followed the dildo as he dragged it down Rus’s slit again, the tip barely catching at his opening. It felt—it didn’t feel like Rus expected, he’d thought it would be weird, maybe even uncomfortable, but the way it glided against him made him want to raise his hips, his pussy clenching, eager to be filled.

Okay, fuck winning. Dignity was overrated and Rus would need to find his pride first to be ashamed at begging.

“come on, please,” Rus moaned, “stick it in me, fill me up, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? fuck me, c’mon, i—gaahh!!”

Rus’s cry broke as he was abruptly filled, stretched to his limit as Edge firmly pushed the dildo into him. The plastic was unforgiving and he could feel every one of those knobby bumps as Edge drove it in, one long, inexorable thrust. He wouldn’t stop without a safe word and Rus had one, but, fuck, he couldn’t even think of his own_ name_; how could he when he was being filled, stretched to his limits. He could feel Edge twisting the fucking thing, all those tiny nodules dragging against his inner walls and he threw his head back with a whimpered, “oh fuck, oh fuck—!“ 

“Easy,” Edge murmured, soothingly low. “A little more, just a little. So beautiful, you’re taking it so well.”

Some blurry, primal part of Rus’s consciousness clung to that praise, let it fill him the same as the dildo did, distantly proud to have pleased Edge. It helped him to spread his femurs wider, arching into that thickness cramming into him.

He gurgled out a cry just as Edge’s gloved hand brushed against him, falling back against the bed with a shudder. All of it yes, all of it inside him, he did it, took all of it.

“There you are,” Edge crooned. The rich approval in his voice made Rus’s soul flutter, as did the way he shifted to pet Rus’s skull with his other hand. “You did it, you did so well, pretty, so well.” 

A slight movement and the dildo suddenly twisted, dragging out a garbled shriek. And again, raking over his nerves before they had a chance to recover.

Rus could only lay back, panting as sweat prickled over his bones, trembling humiliatingly at the cusp of orgasm. The second he started easing down from the peak, Edge would twist the dildo again, forcing him to claw again for control. Almost literally, his fingers were digging helplessly into the mattress, joints aching. One glance at Edge showed him avidly watching and Rus had to look away, his cunt clenching futility around the thickness inside it as he nearly came from that alone.

Just as he was growing accustomed to it, suddenly Edge roughly pulled the dildo out, leaving only the tip inside him. It was somehow worse. Ectoflesh that had grown accustomed to being filled was now gaping emptily, tightening uselessly around the too-narrow tip, trying to pull it back in. 

But it slid back only when Edge was ready, one long, relentless thrust, the unforgiving plastic forcing his ectoflesh to mold around it even as those bumps scraped him deliciously raw. Again, again, empty and full in a staccato rhythm, until Rus was a quivering mess of need.

Edge paused with the dildo deep inside of him, a last twisting grind before he leaned in to whisper, “You’re doing so well, pet, better than I dared hope. But you did make one mistake.”

“Hnn?” Rus said blearily, his senses too overwhelmed to even protest the nickname. Edge’s grin was sharp, bordering on cruel, and it sent a trill of fearful excitement through him.

He leaned in closer still, all warm breath and sharp teeth barely scraping against Rus’s skull as he murmured, “You should have looked more closely at your new toy.”

The last thing Rus heard was the click a split-second before the vibrations hit, traveling up from his pussy to engulf him. His spine arched as if the sudden, agonizing bliss was electric and Rus only managed to garbled out a scream before he was lost.

* * *

Rus had no idea how long he lay there, his higher thoughts still floating blissfully along. It was the sensation of being moved that finally roused him. Rus opened his sockets with some effort, looking down to see Edge gently wiping his femurs clean with a wet washcloth. He noticed Rus’s bleary look and set the cloth aside, picking up a glass of what looked like orange juice from the side table.

Huh. He’d never woken up to find someone else cleaning him up, much less offering him a drink. Rus drank thirstily, licking his teeth clean as Edge set the empty cup aside. To his confusion, Edge stood, already angling towards the door.

“I’ll leave your toy here,” he said, “perhaps you’d like to play with it on your own.”

“wait. you’re leaving?” Rus blurted. “but you didn’t-“ he gestured at Edge’s crotch. Sure his pussy kinda felt like putting out the ‘closed’ sign but there was nothing wrong with his mouth.

“No need. I got what I wanted.” Edge raised a brow bone. “Do you want me to stay?”

That…wasn’t really part of the deal. Usually when Rus had some horny to work out, he made sure to go to their place, the better to get gone when he was done. Edge was the only person he’d ever invited over, and why not, he was over all the time, anyway, cooking with Blue, movie nights, all that shit.

Usually, Rus was the one fleeing home and catching a ciggie on the way but tonight…he…the proper answer was yes and Rus’s teeth parted, ready to say it, but that single word refused to come. 

Something in Edge’s sharp face seemed to soften; pussycat, he was a pussycat after sex, that was all, Rus‘s terrified, tumbling mind bleated.

But Edge didn’t wait for an answer. He kicked off his boots and stripped. Bare boned, he slid into the bed, catching hold of Rus and dragging him closer. He was gorgeously warm and Rus clung to him instinctively, basking in the heat and ignoring the backside of his thoughts that demanded to know what the fuck he was doing. This was…this was okay, this was fine. Probably take a little nap before more sex was all.

Rus settled his skull on Edge’s ribcage and his last real thought before he drifted off was to slyly wonder how to persuade Edge into letting him try that little toy on him.

His pussycat had a pussy of his own, and Rus was thinking of putting it to good use.

-finis-


	6. Sore Loser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Spanking with some added flavor, a bit of a debate over dominance/submission! Oh, and sex. Lots of that. 
> 
> Kinktober is a frame of mind, right? Have a November extra. 😁

* * *

Edge knew better than to make bets with Rus. 

Bets with any of the Sansy-ones never ended well, no matter who won. Somehow, the simplest wager ended in unexpected debts and property damage, and Edge knew better, he truly did. But the smirk that graced Rus’s face was a vicious goad and Edge had given in, recklessly, wagering his own obedience against Rus’s for a single round. 

Winning would have been a heady reward, the chance to have Rus without a single yammering complaint, to fuck his mouth until lovely tears streaked his face, listening to him plead for Edge to finish him, to let him come, ah, yes, the very idea made for a tempting bargaining chip. 

An excellent reward, yes. If Edge hadn’t lost. 

Losing a simple bet was how he ended up here, stripped bare and an ectobody summoned, on his knees in front of Rus while he smoked one of his foul cigarettes, his hooded eye lights roaming over the sight at his feet. 

“Get on with it,” Edge gritted out. Much as he enjoyed these little games with Rus, usually he wasn’t the one on his knees. But he wasn’t about to use his safeword this soon into the game; one round versus weeks of mocking about being able to give it but not take it? That was more debt than he was interested in earning. 

A teasing hand smoothed over the generous globes of ectoflesh that made up his ass and Edge struggled against lurching away from that touch. He might be bitter about losing and he didn’t give promises the same weight as Rus or the Sanses, but he kept his word. Obedience for one round, yes, even if it was grudging. This was what Rus wanted and it meant nothing, less than nothing. He could do this. 

He could.

Rus only laughed softly and crushed out his cigarette in a half-filled ashtray. There was a pillow on the floor, not for Edge’s knees which were scraping against the hard wood, but for Rus to sit on and he settled on it with an exaggerated sigh. There was a certain sadistic glee as he said, "gonna count for me, baby?"

"What do you--ahh!" 

The first blow caught him off-guard, a sharp, open-handed crack against one cheek. Pain flared through the summoned flesh like nothing he was accustomed to and Edge shuddered, his head dropping between his shoulders as he hunched down, bracing himself. The discomfort from ectoflesh was different than directly against bone, less brutal and confronting somehow, but it was still pain. 

"i can if you don't," Rus said cheerily. His voice was always faintly raspy, as smoky as expensive whiskey. The way it suddenly dropped on his next words was richer yet, heavy with warning, "but if you make me count, we'll be at this a while."

The word was like acid on his tongue, but Edge spat it out, "One."

"there you go, good boy!" And before Edge could offer his scathing opinion on that moniker, another blow fell, stealing his breath. The pain of impact seemed to reverberate, spreading out from the point where Rus’s hand struck. Worse, something of it seemed to reach between his legs, sending conflicting signals to the pussy Rus had demanded he summon. He could feel the creeping wetness there, uncaring of Edge’s conflict; there was only one reason for his cunt to exist and it was eager to be used.

Edge squirmed, clenching his formed thighs together in an attempt to stifle that sensation. Only for bony fingers to pinch his stinging ectoflesh warningly and Edge remembered, gasping out, "Two!"

"oh, honey," Rus said with mocking solicitude. Narrow fingers traced the aching outline left behind by his hand and Edge wondered wildly if Rus could see it, if the false flesh glowing hotly from the strike. "you better just pace yourself, we’re only getting started." 

Another hard slap against his asscheeks, another, Edge stuttering out the count. Pain was nothing he couldn’t handle, but this, this was different. Trapped in the frustrating helplessness of his promise mingled distressingly with the unseemly need growing between his legs. 

He could taste the spice of his own magic, tears, Edge realized dimly, but he didn’t stop counting, couldn’t. Not anymore than he could stop himself from trembling, his clawed fingers gouging curling scraps from the wooden floor. Almost unconsciously lifting his hips into the steady rain of blows as they peppered over his backside, occasionally straying to the backs of his thighs to drag free a desperate howl before returning to more generous, giving flesh.

His face was soaked, fouled with tears and sweat, and Edge kept counting, desperately, the numbers meaningless and rising. He needed it to end, needed the throbbing in his ass and his cunt to stop, yearned for it, for the heady throb to coalesce into what it was promising. 

The steadying hand on his spine moved, tracing vertebra and tweaking sensitive cartilage. It was a tender distraction, enough that Edge shrieked hoarsely when a particularly vicious blow fell along with it. He let out a thin sob as Rus’s hand lingered, fingers delving between his legs.

“so wet,” Rus crooned as embarrassingly slick sounds rose, slim fingers parting the lips of his cunt to glide along his slit. “your pussy is so wet, baby. you want another one, don’t you. want me to slap your ass again.”

Edge shook his head, words choking in his raw throat. His ass was throbbing, every slap outlined in sharp relief. A shameful whimper escaped him as two fingers pushed inside him, scissoring and stretching his walls, the light pressure of a thumb circling teasingly against his clit. 

“i’m gonna fuck you, you know.” Conversationally, as idle as a chat in an elevator. “keep you on your knees so i can see how pretty and swollen your ass is while i do it. but first—”

His fingers withdrew with an obscene sucking sound, his pussy trying to clench around them, keep them inside, and he was expecting the blow, knew it was coming, knew it. And he still screamed when it fell, hard, right between his legs, catching both asscheeks and the tender lips of his pussy in one slap.

Conflicting pain and pleasure wracked him, his orgasm as fierce as another blow, washing over him in a devastating rush. Edge reeled with it, sobbing weakly as he sagged down to the floor into the mess of his own fluids. More trailed down the inside of his thighs, slicked up by a hand that was suddenly gentle, soothing over the tender, aching flesh of his ass, petting Edge through the tremor of aftershocks, his bones clattering against the floor as he trembled. 

That gentle touch didn’t linger, Edge mumbling a discontented protest as it withdrew. It was cut off by the jangling sound of Rus’s belt, a rough knee parting Edge’s legs. He moaned faintly, raised his hips the best he could as Rus settled over him. 

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Rus gasped, “so fucking beautiful, i can’t—" That taunting calm was lost and Edge arched his back as Rus thrust into him, crying out as bony hips slapped against his abused flesh. 

He’d lost the bet, Edge thought dimly, listening as Rus panted and swore, hauling Edge back to his knees as he fucked into him. He’d lost, but he’d never expected losing to be so sweet. Sweeter still was Rus losing control inside him, gripping Edge’s abused asscheeks roughly in both hands, and he came in a rush of pulsing wet heat, collapsing down onto Edge, pushing him painfully back into the hard floor. 

Edge allowed it, folding back to the ground, ignoring the renewed throb of his pussy for long enough to roll out from under Rus, grappling him down to straddle his pelvis. 

“what—” Rus started, barely struggling, still blurry with pleasure. 

“Your round is over,” Edge reminded him. Rus’s cock was still formed, softened and resting at his pubis, streaked with crimson magic. The shaft jerked when Edge rubbed his pussy against it, slick lips catching, and Rus’s sockets widened, his eye lights blowing wide. “Now it’s my turn.”

“edge,” Rus began, perhaps as a warning. It trailed off on a yelp as Edge caught his hands, pinning his wrists roughly against the floor. Trapping him, his hips struggling to arch even as Edge shifted until the head of his cock found his still-slippery entrance. He slid down with a hiss of his own, Rus’s stiffening shaft stretching his pussy, filling him. But when Rus squirmed restlessly, trying to move, Edge refused to allow it, using his greater weight as leverage until Rus sank back in surrender. 

“Now, let’s see if you can count,” Edge said, letting his razor-sharp grin widen. He rose up, slowly, let Rus’s cock nearly slip free before sinking back down, a long, slow glide that left Rus shaking, whimpering as he was achingly engulfed. Edge took a moment to catch his breath, then leaned in to whisper, hoarse and soft, “That’s one.”

Watching the dawning realization fill Rus’s eye lights was nearly as sweet as an orgasm and Edge savored it greedily, craving even more. 

Perhaps Edge had lost the bet. But he wasn’t yet losing the game. 

-finis-


End file.
